They were an urban myth. The idea that there was one person out there who was perfect for you, while appealing, was something that no one could confirm existed. There were whispers about them, books written about the possibility, but there was no proof, no scientific confirmation that they existed.
Some people said that your soulmate would have the same birthmark as you, a mark somewhere on their body that was the same as yours. Tony had stared at his birthmark for hours before, wondering if there was someone out there with the same darker patch of skin on their hand, someone who matched him. When he was at his most melancholy he would trace over it, wishing and wondering when he was going to find the person meant for him.
His nonna and mum had both believed in soulmates, had whispered stories of them in his ear when he was young. Nonna talked of a young fisherman she'd met at the market who had the same heart shaped mark on his elbow that she did. She talked of how much she loved him, how much he'd loved her. She told him about losing him, how it tore her apart but she'd gone on and pushed past it. His mum had whispered about a girl at school, her best mate, someone she could see herself spending all eternity with. She showed him pictures of them, their love and friendship clear in every inch of their bodies. She spoke of growing apart, finding husbands, leaving each other and how much it hurt.
Tony had listened to those stories, had taken them all in, and dreamed. There was someone out there for him, he'd convinced himself when he was a child, someone who would love him completely.
As an adult, Tony no longer believed in soulmates except in his darkest moments, when he was convinced no one would ever love him because of who he was. He'd stare at that mark on his hand, the one his nonna had been convinced was his soul mark, and he'd wonder- dream- of someone meant for him. But he knew it wasn't meant to be, knew there would never be someone for him. How could there be? Soulmates weren't real.
He was convinced of his inevitable loneliness, enough so that he didn't look anymore, didn't watch other people's hands and hope to find that somewhat oblong shape resting right below their pointer finger. There was no point. Soulmates couldn't possibly be real.
That thought process carried him through his career, from Peoria to NCIS. He spent the entire time telling himself that he was destined to be alone, that his mum and nonna had just been wistful thinkers. There was no one for him, not with everything that he'd done. He would manage being alone though. It was easier that way. He didn't even know if he could share the real him with somone, even a soulmate.
When he left NCIS the first place he went was Hawai'i. He wanted to bury the bad memories of the last time he'd been there in good memories, catch some sun and eat delicious food. He wanted to do everything that he hadn't been able to do when he was twelve, wanted to learn the local culture in a way a kid hadn't cared to learn. It was part of his bucket list of things to do now that he was retired.
Hawai'i was just as beautiful as he remembered, warm sun and crowded beaches. He spent days wandering around, learning things and experiencing things, just enjoying himself. Then his luck ran out.
It figured that he would run into a crime in progress. He'd seen the people exit the bank, black masks on their faces, backpacks full of presumably money. His first instinct was to reach for his gun, but his gun wasn't there. When he saw them climb onto bikes of all things, he did what he could, managed to trip two of the three bikes and grab hold of the third. He wrestled each person to the ground, listening to the sirens that meant HPD was on their way. Keeping three people docile when you had no way of securing them was hard, but Tony managed it.
A Dodge Charger pulled up and two men climbed out, badges on their hips. Tony stepped back so they could secure the suspects, watching both of them move like a well-oiled machine. When they had their suspects secured, they turned to him.
He was an old hand at gathering witness statements, knew all the questions that they were going to ask and how to answer them. It was no problem for him to recount the events. The other men looked slightly impressed by the time he was done, and Tony just shrugged.
The shorter of the two men held out his hand for Tony to shake. It was such a common thing that Tony didn't think anything of it, reaching his own hand out as well. As soon as they touched, he felt a jolt of something. His eyes blew wide as he looked at the other man's hand, half expecting to see nothing. But no, there right below his pointer finger was a dark mark, the same dark mark Tony had been looking at for years.
He looked up at the other man with wide, shocked eyes. Apparently he did have a soulmate. He didn't know what to do with that information, how to handle it. He wanted to run, to get away from this man who was apparently meant for him. He wanted to hold on to him, bring him in for a hug. He wanted to do so many things. Instead, he stood their floundering. What was he supposed to do? how was he supposed to act?
He stared at the other man, waiting for him to say something, hoping that he would. Tony was, for the first time in his life, at a loss for words.
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